Friday.

Same street as 'Tuesday'.

Last night we were both awake at 1.15 a.m. so we got up, dressed, and went for a walk. We live in what must be one of the few towns in England where, from the High Street(in May), nightingales can be heard along the river. It was a lovely clear night with a dark orange moon in its first quarter hanging just above the horizon. We went down the narrow lane to the river, crossed the footbridge, turned right and walked along the river walk, with the river on our right. After a while we could hear nightingales singing to our left, so took a pathway up through the woods and away from the river. When we got clear of the trees we were on a 'green road' beside open fields, and we could now hear several nightingales singing (and answering each other) in the woods uphill beyond the fields. Although the moon had now gone down below our low hills, it was a starlit night, and, as we walked home along the green road (or cart track) we had little need of the torch Ann had brought. As well as the nightingales we could now hear the quavery call of an owl, and, some distance away, the sharp occasional bark of a fox. We got home about twenty past two and, would you believe?, slept till after seven.